Boom
Where once I saw the sun
flare like a peacock,
fish bones now hiss
on a shale whipped beach,
banshee’s are dredged up from sandy graves,
spume slaps nests of air.
Salty waves boom inside beached ribs.
I am so full of sadness
that I hear myself mew
like a gull in a gale
when it tumbles
as flightless as stone.
Then here on this rocky strand,
like a hermit crab,
a hand slips out of my coat pocket
to conduct
the music of the wild sea air,
a riotous tune so merry
that it shatters my mood
with a muscular joy
and a sky-high laughter.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2021
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